


The One Where Elio Always Cries

by elioolivercmbyntrash



Series: Elio & Oliver Fluffy Ficlets [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: AU, Blanket Forts, CMBYN - Freeform, Call me by your name, Cookie Dough, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Ficlet, Ficlets, Fluff, Hugs, M/M, Mild Angst, Oliver - Freeform, One Shot, Protective Oliver, Some hurt/comfort, elio - Freeform, less than 500 words, movies - Freeform, random moments, sickly sweet, tags will be added later, you're going to need to see a dentist after reading these
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24788737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elioolivercmbyntrash/pseuds/elioolivercmbyntrash
Summary: This is the start of a series of fluffy ficlets, little insights into Elio and Oliver's domestic life.
Relationships: Oliver/Elio Perlman
Series: Elio & Oliver Fluffy Ficlets [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792924
Comments: 9
Kudos: 55





	The One Where Elio Always Cries

**Author's Note:**

> don't worry - I'm still doing the other series! Sometimes, though, I like writing really short random pieces, and this is what this series will be: small pieces 500 words or under. Mostly dialogue.

Elio was sitting on the bathroom floor crying, holding a very dead-looking plant in a purple pot that Oliver had picked up for him once, in a flea market. He could see his reflection in the floor length mirror, the way his face contorted as he cried, his mouth hanging open, his chin trembling, tears streaming down his face. He wanted to throw a towel over the mirror so that he couldn't watch himself cry.

“I love you, Elio, but you cry over _everything_ ,” said Oliver. 

“No I don’t,” said Elio, sniffing, wiping his nose on his sleeve. His tears fell onto the droopy, brown plant, as if he wanted to revive it. 

“Yes, you do,” said Oliver. “ You cried when you burned the bread you were making last weekend. You cried the other week at a TV advert -”

“Yes, because it was an advert about donkeys that were being poorly treated and they showed a donkey which was skin and bone and  _ still _ being forced to carry a massive load. Just because you’re, like, super macho and have the emotional range of a piece of sand, doesn’t mean you need to mock me,” Elio said, pouting.

And now you’re crying again. On the bathroom floor. And you’re not drunk. What’s wrong?”

“I’ve killed Bill.”

“Bill?”

“Yes. Bill. Bill the cactus?” Elio held up the plant he was holding. “I can’t even keep a cactus alive. They’re meant to be  _ impossible _ to kill. I can’t do  _ anything _ .”

“Oh Elio, you goose,” said Oliver with a smile. Bill had clearly been killed because Elio had watered him too much; the soil still looked damp. Oliver kept that to himself. “Do you know how damn  _ cute _ I find it that you cry over everything? Come here.” Elio’s cheeks burned and he placed Bill on the floor. Oliver swaddled Elio in his arms and kissed his forehead.

“I know I’m silly,” said Elio, his voice muffled because he was talking into Oliver’s hoodie. “For crying over everything. I just, I can’t help it. I guess I’m over sensitive?”

“I think it’s an endearing quality,” said Oliver. “It shows just how much you care."

“It hurts, sometimes, though,” said Elio. “Being so sensitive, I mean. Like, I wish I didn’t cry over a stupid plant dying.”

“Why do you invalidate yourself like that?”

Elio shrugged. “I’ve swapped nosebleeds for crying. God, and I’m such an ugly crier.”

“Stop putting yourself down like that, OK? We’re going to go and make cookie dough, make a blanket fort and cuddle while we watch movies. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” said Elio, smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> comments & kudos feed my muse (:


End file.
